


The Background

by The_Norsiest



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Blood, Forced Mind Meld, Gritty, Knives, M/M, Mind Reading, Minor Character Death, Mob aesthetics, Threats, Violence, partial melds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28527966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Norsiest/pseuds/The_Norsiest
Summary: This is a work for an RP. Sharing with the group via AO3.Wayn and Keras have a history and although Wayn’s feelings for the Romulan have changed they still have work to do.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 10
Collections: USS Tribble Threat





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No note

Wayn could only make out the sounds of marching against a metal floor. The tell tale banging of heavy boots weighed down by larger bodies. Tall, he figured, muscular for sure, and obviously not in a cheery mood if their stomping was any indication. The light flashed against the bag on his head but the deep color kept him from seeing anything beyond the threads. Wayn was emphatically aware of the bodies which surrounded him as they moved down the corridor, but if they were speaking verbally or telepathically he couldn’t hear it. He strained against the bindings around his wrists. In the 24th century people still used zip ties like barbarians and these in particular were digging into his skin. He’d certainly have marks to deal with tomorrow… if tomorrow ever came that was. 

Wayn was forced to take a seat against something hard with no backing. And as the bag was lifted from his head the betazoid quickly took in his surroundings. He found himself in a cargo bay. Rows and rows of boxes, probably containing stem bolts (or better still, self sealing stem bolts!) covered the expanse of a room. The lighting was dim but he could make out movement. Several thugs were positioned at the exit; each looked intimidating and holding phasers. Several Orions, a couple Klingons and even a Nausicaan was among their group. A Vulcan of some height stood at Wayn’s side, hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. Then, the least fearsome of them all sat on a box before Wayn. 

The Romulan of thin build and average height couldn’t have been much older than Wayn. Though it was hard to tell with the forehead ridges. He wore a black suit and something told Wayn that beneath it there was actually quite a build of lean muscle. Though he was the smallest of the party, the others watched him with just a touch of fear, radiating from their bodies in easy waves. 

He was holding a small knife and using it to cut what looked like an apple. Except it was more orange in hue and the meat was bluish white. He peeled back the skin and raised it to his mouth. The Romulan chewed slowly, not looking at anyone in particular and swallowed before speaking “did you use the cuffs?” He asked. Wayn knew instantly what he meant, the ones that could block his telepathy. 

The Vulcan shifted as if uncomfortable, not that Vulcans were ever uncomfortable of course, who could ever accuse them of such an emotion? “I began the task but did not finish.”

The Romulan’s knife dug back into the fruit, and he pried the blade away, the apple piece breaking with a crunching tear. His voice was stern but not cold “And why’s that?” 

The Vulcan appeared to grind his teeth before answering, and if Wayn had to guess that ‘feeling’ coming off of him was one of worry. “he said it was ‘kinky’ and proceeded to make sexual jokes. I did not desire to indulge him.” 

Wayn turned his head to the side and snickered. He might as well, he was likely to be thrown out an airlock at any minute. Why not go out in good spirits? The balking expression of the Vulcan from early at the suggestion they were about to have intercourse had been too much. 

The Romulan held a false look of sternness, but Wayn was certain he felt amusement roll off of him. “I see…” he placed the second piece of ‘apple’ into his mouth and chewed slowly again. Clearly attempting to be intimidating with his mindful knife work. “My name is Keras” he finally said, addressing Wayn for the first time though still not meeting his gaze. 

“Wayn Kisq, a pleasure to meet you.” He winked at his captor. “I’d shake your hand but the big guy here might faint.” Not to mention his hands remained tied. 

“No” Keras said slowly with exasperation. He shook his head and dug the knife back into his snack “no, I just consider you the bastard who cost me a deal today… your ‘name’ is worthless to me.” 

Wayn was certain that was a vicious insult though he couldn’t gather why. Therefore it did nothing to dampen his spirits. The knife on the other hand was worrisome. A room full of phasers but the way the Romulan twirled the blade to catch the light was far more threatening. 

Keras took another slow bite of his food before he glanced up to the Vulcan. No words were exchanged but the meaning was clear. Instantly the Vulcan’s hand on Wayn’s shoulder tightened while the other came closer to his face. “Don’t your people have rules about this?” He shouted, but the man’s fingers found his psy points despite the protest. Clearly, he’d found it ‘logical’ enough. 

Wayn felt a strange sensation as his mind was invaded. It wasn’t the soft embrace of Betazoid telepathy which always came with a feeling of emotion. Usually something kind and caring. This was cold and void of feeling. Wayn huffed “could have at least warmed your hands first.” But this time his jokes phase the bang haired brute. 

Keras began to carve something into the apple. Perhaps a word or an image. Wayn couldn’t see but he kept his focus there and spoke to Wayn as if distracted “Why were you there, Betazoid?” 

Wayn felt his mind being pried open a little further. It wasn’t necessary and he half imagined the Vulcan was enjoying this. His jaw set firmly and he said nothing but his mind betrayed him. The images of Waylana came to the surface instantly as did his emotions. She was always on the forefront of his memories and his entire life had been dedicated to finding her. 

“He is looking for his sister” the Vulcan said “she was possibly captured by the syndicate and he’s been searching for…” he raised a brow “almost two years.” Was it Wayn’s imagination or did he sense some admiration from the Vulcan? His dedication to the task being so strong and unwavering. Wayn twisted trying to pull his face away from the partial meld. 

Keras continued without concern “I take it you don’t work for the syndicate?” The Vulcan confirmed while Wayn tried to wriggle away. “Do you work for the Federation then?” 

Wayn said nothing but the Vulcan answered for him. “He does not” 

Keras seemed to nod, twisting the knife against the fruit. “Well that works to your advantage” he said idly. “Now… why don’t you tell me how you managed to get past my man in the first place?” 

Off to the side one of the Klingon shrinked from view. Wayn could see her but he kept his face on Keras. Something genuine in him hoping she wouldn’t be in too much trouble. “she liked my smile.” He gave a cheeky grin to the Romulan. 

Again Wayn felt that his sense of humor had hit target but Keras remained stone faced and calm. Couldn’t look bad in front of his crew now could he? “I see” he neither looked at Wayn nor his Klingon. “That’ll certainly be something I deal with later. At any rate-“

“You should be thanking me” Wayn interrupted. 

The knife stopped playing and Keras paused. His entire body still. The air in the room shifted and Wayn could even feel the Vulcan tense. “and why’s that?” Keras asked, his tone cold and threatening. 

Wayn didn’t lose his grin. He’d at least gotten the man’s attention. “Because that ‘deal’ you were about to make was a set up, and I didn’t have to read anyone’s mind to know it.” 

Wayn looked directly at the Vulcan who simply mashed his fingers more firmly against the face. Then he turned to the Romulan “he is being truthful.” 

Keras considers this for a moment. If Wayn had to guess at the sensation coming off of him then this wasn’t startling information. It had been something the Romulan had worried about. Something he’d already had reason to believe. He stopped playing with the knife. 

“Of course I am. I wasn’t trying to ruin your deal but if you’d been arrested the whole place would have been raided and I’d have been taken in too.” Wayn was serious for a moment “I didn’t come all this way to end up behind a force field.” 

Keras was silent for a long time. Finally he sat down the apple and tucked away his blade. The knife now back in his pocket. He looked off for a moment, towards the wall, towards a distance none of them could comprehend. It was as if he could see the stars beyond the thick hull of the ship. His mind was lost in calculation and suspicion. “Well weren’t you just my good luck charm today.” He said sarcastically. 

Wayn needed a way out of this mess. He took a chance, his eyes contracting as he tried to read the man before him. It was a short lived attempt, the Vulcan gripping his shoulder with painful strength. “He’s trying to-“

“I know what he’s trying to do.” Keras says. Finally, for the first time, the man turns to stare Wayn directly in the eye. His lips curl into a grin at the edges of his face. “Let him” it almost sounds like a dare. 

The Vulcan pulls his hand away and Wayn is spared the cold feeling of absent emotions. The Romulan seated closer before the Betazoid waits patiently.

It feels like a trap. 

Wayn quickly scans the room, no signs of escape apparent and the ties on his wrists are firm and unyielding. What would he even do if he could get out of them? He’s no fighter, he’s barely a hacker. And these thugs look, at least slightly, organized. 

Taking a deep breath Wayn concentrates on Keras. He spreads his telepathy out and towards the man reaching to sense what’s on the surface. He finds nothing. Wayn digs deeper, like water being soaked into dry soil. All he can make out is a dark expanse of nothingness. He’s gentle as he searches until he finds one stray image. It’s… a stone, just a stone, but also… more than that. 

Mentally Wayn holds the image, turning it out and inspecting it. It’s smooth and oval with a carving he can’t decipher. It even has weight. The image fitting in the palm of his mind’s eye but as heavy as a starship. Wayn can gather no information but there’s a distinct feeling behind it.

“Loss” Wayn says. He opens his eyes, sweat beading on his face. He shakes his head and tries to brush off the sensation. “Not a very colorful imagination you have there.”

There’s a mix of pride followed by annoyance before Keras is left only curious. He stares at Wayn for a little longer than he should. The younger man’s face was pretty. Pretty enough to dissuade his crewman. Unlike the Vulcan he didn’t need touch to reach into someone’s mind and he obviously had less qualms about it. He had a few skills criminally and didn’t seem to give a shit about authority. “You’re not half bad” Keras observes “I think with a little fine tuning you could be better.” 

There is a snap of Keras’s fingers and his crew begins to move away. The Vulcan beside Wayn reaches over and cuts off the ties around his wrists. Was this a trick? Wayn wrings his wrists and watches as the people leave the room following their orders without question. Eventually it’s just Wayn and Keras sitting amongst the stem bolts. 

Wayn considers making a break for it but he’s unfortunately intrigued and honestly this man could probably kick his ass without blinking. Wayn knows his strong suit is seduction, not strength. 

“I’d like to make you an offer.” Keras starts. “But I’d like to show you something first. Something I think you’ll find very interesting if my assment of you is correct.” 

Wayn waits patiently for a moment before realizing that the something being ‘shown’ is not physical. “Alright…” Wayn’s eyes contract once again, but this time he isn’t greeted with an empty or hollow image. There’s information, strategically placed there for him to find. Not showing him anything more than what he intends to. It’s accompanied by a feeling of truth. Wayn raises his brows in shock. 

“So, Wayn, do we have an understanding?” Keras holds a hand out to him. It would be some time before the Romulan actually trusted him, but using him? That was another thing entirely. 

Wayn reached out to the offered hand, gripping it tightly “I think we do.”

—-

It wouldn’t be the last time Keras allowed Wayn to read his mind. Over time he would come to depend on the Betazoid staying in communication. Eventually the team of criminals would disband, being killed in fights, switching sides, being arrested or simply fading away into the dark without warning. But Wayn would stay. His loyalty would hit a cord within the Romulan he’d not felt in ages. The trust between them taking hold; bonding by escaping death and the law had a funny way to make people feel close. 

It would eventually lead to a very special job. While being chased Wayn would pull them into an ally, he’d pushed Keras up against the wall of a building and lock his lips with the other man’s, causing their pursuers to mistake them for passionate lovers and move on. It would save them both. As Wayn would try to pull away a hand would wrap around his shirt. Keras would ask “can you read me?” 

Wayn would laugh and reply “could I ever?” 

Then the Romulan would allow certain thoughts and feelings to seep out. Carefully placed on the forefront of his mind to be seen with ease. Wayn would smile again and lean in, dipping closer to the mouth he’d just kissed. Only this time, their embrace, would not be a facade.


	2. The Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wayn has left the Bartholomew in a spectacular display of betrayal. What is he doing now?

Keras slid the metal briefcase across the desk. The chill in the room actually causing him to emit fog as he spoke. “This is what you wanted” he stated plainly. 

Wayn’s eyes followed the case, knowing what it held and felt an ache in his stomach. It was too late to back out now, even if he wanted to... but he didn’t want to... 

The hands of the Risan snapped the locks, opening the case with little ceremony. Inside were three of the federation standard drives, the liquid data rods, each containing various amounts of data on the Bartholomew, it’s mission and certain codes that should work on any vessel. The man who’s name was of little consequence ran a chubby finger over one of the viles. He eyed it like a Ferangi who’d just found a book on the perfect Oomox technique. 

The man pulled one out of the box and held it up to the light. The liquid memory encoding always shown a specific color when well filled. It was as dark as it could possibly be. He sneered. “Of course there is the matter of what’s contained... you’ll have to allow me to examine them properly before our deal can be complete.” 

Keras flicked his eyes across the table, a cold stare trained on the other. “That wasn’t our deal.” He gave a cruel sort of grin. “And you don’t expect me to take your word that you’ll pay up when you’ve found what you were after... do you?” 

Wayn stood next to where Keras sat and read the other man emphatically. A strong sense of deceit mingled with arrogance laced his aura. He sent a telepathic message to his accomplice. ‘*don’t trust him*’ 

‘*did you expect me to?*’ came the reply. 

And if Wayn wasn’t holding a stoic expression he might have laughed. 

The man across the table waved his hands outwardly and smiled “really Keras, we’ve done so much business together and you still don’t trust me?” He huffs “... Romulans.” 

Wayn glanced around the room. There were two men standing at each exit. One set belonged to them, the other belonged to him. Just as Wayn stood by Keras a muscular bodyguard took up next to the crime boss. He copied Wayn’s stance as if daring him to act against his employer. It wasn’t necessary. In a fight Wayn didn’t stand a chance. It was a good thing he trusted Keras to take them all on out without batting an eye. 

Wayn threw his telepathy at the body guard, but the dunce had nothing going on behind his mind. Then he tried the men at the door, holding phasers and standing at the ready. The first gave nothing away but the second?... Wayn reached out and found their thoughts, his Betazoid eyes contracting unnoticeably. 

‘*come on boss, let’s end this. Why are you wasting our time when we’re just going to kill them anyway you sadistic fuck?*’ 

“Keras” Wayn mouthed. It was a short and simple signal. 

The Romulan stood in a flash, a move not perceivable by the Risan’s eye. Before they could even tap their phasers the men at the door fell. Keras had thrown two knives, hitting each in their respective hearts. The locations different between their species but landing on their mark nonetheless. The bodyguard roared and tackled Wayn to the floor perceiving the taller man as a bigger threat. It was a bad calculation. Wayn simply allowed himself to hit the floor and Keras did the rest; racking a blade across the muscle man’s throat before tossing him off of Wayn. 

As the Romulan helped the Betazoid stand while the traitorous dealer grabbed the box and raced towards the exit. He might have had a chance to get away if the doors hadn’t been properly sealed. 

He screamed and dropped the briefcase, clawing at the exit. The doors didn’t budge. And Wayn could sense the panic that took hold of him, his blood running colder than the room itself. 

“Tsk tsk tsk” Keras said, taking deliberate steps around the table. “And here I thought you were a man of your word?” He was right behind him, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Did you really think it’d be that easy?” 

The man rounded, staring at Keras with abject fear. “I... now Keras... I wasn’t going to do anything! Y-you’re the one who attacked first!” He turned from quivering to accusing in a split second. “You killed my men! You broke the peace not me!” 

The Romulan took a moment to turn away, sure that he could fell the other if he tried anything as he did so. Keras’ eyes landed on Wayn but there were no words exchanged. They didn’t need them. “I have it on good authority you were going to try and kill me.” 

The man starts yelling about deals and truces and something incoherent about the thieves code which, to be honest, never existed. When he’s finally heard enough Keras placed a hand over the man’s mouth. 

“I think it’s time you pay up...” and his gaze turns back to Wayn. 

There’s a silent moment as the sensation of prey who’s been caught by a predator fills the expanse. The man’s emotions overtaking anyone else’s in the room. It makes Wayn sick to feel it, even though he has no love for this low life. The empathy of a Betazoid only out weighed by his determination to see this through. 

Keras slams the man down against the table, bending him and holding his arms behind his back. Wayn approaches, his eyes contract as he reaches into the other’s mind.

“The meet up, when is it?” Keras asks. When no reply comes he twists the man’s arm. A guttural cry of agony escapes the other but it’s unnecessary to hurt him. His thoughts instantly answer the question that he refuses to admit. 

“One month, 12 days.” Wayn answers for him. 

Keras nods “Where?” 

“I’ll kill the lot of you!” The man says as he struggles in vain. 

Keras pins him harder “Where.” He demands with a voice like ice. 

Wayn finds his answer. “Rigel 7, the Ahna province, warehouse 27... something about a code to get in.” Wayn shakes his head as the image wasn’t clear.

Keras pulls out a knife and lets it dance before the man’s vision. “What about a code?” 

He stops struggling, looking with fear at the blade. “It... you need an access code to get in, but they won’t send it to me until it’s time...” 

Wayn looks up at Keras, sensing the truth of the statement. 

The Romulan flashes a dark sort of grin. “Codes don’t mean much when you have a good hacker.” 

Wayn turned away. He closed himself off to the sensation. He paid no attention to the others as Keras tied up the loose ends. The Romulan waited for the Betazoid to leave the room, sparing him the emotions that came from the man’s death. 

—-

Back on their ship Wayn leaned against the wall and held the briefcase. All the secrets they were about to trade would have potentially harmed so many people. The faces of those he’d met on the Bartholomew flashed through his mind. He took a breath. 

Wayn forced their faces behind the image of a coin. He placed all the heartache and desire to return to them there. The coin spun but Wayn focused instead on Waylana. Whether she were alive or dead he’d come too far to simply stop now. He was simply in too deep. 

“What was that?” Keras’s voice was hollow as he walked towards the Betazoid. He cleaned the knife in his hand with his shirt, removing the blood. “You hesitated.” 

Wayn set down the briefcase and brought his head back against the metal of the wall. “Sorry... been awhile.” 

Keras studied him for a silent moment, knife now clean but he didn’t put it back into his pocket just yet. “8 months is a long time...” 

“8 years is longer” Wayn countered. 

His words hardly had the desired effect. The Romulan’s jaw set firm. “You know why I do this.” His voice was calm even if the rolling emotions from him weren’t. “You know those bastards put three times the price on Romulan heads for being an ‘endangered species’.” He spat the words. “You know there are pirates that specifically target my people.... and I know why you’re here, why you do this.” He reached out, pushing Wayn firmly against the wall, a hand on his chest. Keras looked up at him with foreboding stare and harsh tone. “But if you’ve changed your mind... had a change of ‘heart’ then you’re no good to me...”

Wayn grabbed Keras’ hand, his touch gentle as he let his eyes contract. He didn’t read the Romulan, instead he projected the truth of himself. “My feelings for you might have changed” there’s a silent moment, Wayn’s thumb strokes against Keras’ hand as the two men stare into each other’s eye. “But the job hasn’t...” 

Keras considers Wayn thoughtfully and if he’s disappointed he doesn’t let it show. He moves back slowly, his shoulders lowering as the threatening posture subsides. Keras puts his knife away. “Alright” is all he says before he walks away...


	3. E’Wenu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after the dream sequence in RP but unfortunately I didn’t finish it soon enough to post it that day. Enjoy!

Keras shook Wayn awake. The Betazoid came out of his dream with a start. He reached out and grabbed the other man’s arm but the telepathic sensation here was different than the one he’d actually been searching for. The colder thoughts from the Romulan were very distinct from the warm embrace of the Orion’s. 

Keras looked at him with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?” 

Wayn released him instantly and sat up in the dim light of the room. He shook his head “nothing... it was just a dream.” 

The Romulan didn’t believe him but he also didn’t let it show; careful to control his emotion of suspicion so the Betazoid wouldn’t sense his distrust. “Get dressed. We have work to do...” 

Wayn nodded and did as he was told. He pulled on a pair of basic black pants he had borrowed from the Romulan. He then donned a black shirt made of woven alloy designed for protection. It crossed his chest diagonally and pinned into place with leather straps and alloy buckles. As Wayn looked at himself in the mirror he couldn’t help but think he was a far cry from the flamboyant and open personality he’d been on The Bartholomew. The expression on his face was weary as he forced himself to look into his own eyes. He couldn’t hold the gaze for long. 

A pair of boots secured on his feet and Wayn headed out of the room. 

—-

The pair entered a Holodeck. It was smaller than the ones on the Federation Star ship, lower quality with more pixelated images. Keras had set up something like a training facility. A few punching bags, dummies and an assortment of weapons came into focus. 

Wayn looked around, sure he knew where this was heading “I don’t like to fight.” He reminded the Romulan. 

Keras strolled over to the knife selection. He hovered a hand above the array of blades. Various sizes with different handles but each just as sharp as the last. His fingers eventually landed on a Bajoran knife; lightweight, easy to wield and made for concealment. Subtle. Keras offered it out to Wayn. “We’re about to storm a room filled with criminals who have been killing people since they were old enough to talk. They take perverse pleasure in the tormenting others. They’ve no qualms about felling you or me on sight, nor will they hesitate. And that’s not even mentioning the hired hands they’ll undoubtedly have as guards... I know you don’t ‘like’ to fight... but you’re going to have to.” He fixed Wayn with a firm stare. 

Wayn stood silent and considered the weapon being handed to him. The idea of physically hurting someone, potentially feeling their pain through his empathic abilities. He couldn’t stomach the thought, but even still... hadn’t he hurt people before? 

The betazoid’s hand began to move towards the offered knife. Then Keras’ eyes flicked to the man’s side. “Unless you’d like to learn how to properly use that dagger.” He suggested. 

The bejeweled Orion blade had been kept at Wayn’s waist since he’d been beamed aboard the ship. The cloaked warbird systems had allowed him to keep it but it certainly hadn’t been missed by Keras’ keen observation. Wayn pulled out the dagger. The one Jaale had gifted him so recently, the one that had belonged to his mother. 

The weight of the blade in Wayn’s hand was more than physical. 

“Teach me” he finally said. 

—-

Some hours later and the Betazoid still wasn’t getting it. His form was off and his annoyance was obvious even to the non-telepath. Keras leaned against the wall of the holodeck, arms crossed and watching him from a distance. As Wayn struck out at the dummy, once again, he missed his mark. 

“You’re doing it again,” Keras observed. “You’re holding your arms too stiff, bend the knees, so you have some give.” 

Wayn sighed and pulled away from the dummy. He turned to take a few paces and rub the back of his head. “Didn’t you tell me before I was too loose?” 

Keras nodded from the side of the room “you were. There's a balance… Not my fault you can’t find it.” His words carried no comforting tone and yet Wayn was aware this was his attempt to make him feel better. A joke, if it could be called that. 

Wayn allowed it worked, actually huffing a laugh and retorting “And here I thought all teachers were responsible for their students' success or failures.” 

Keras didn’t smile, not exactly. He raised his eyes to meet Wayn’s and simply didn’t frown. “That’s a very alien concept to me. Must be a Betazoid thing.” 

Keras lifted from the wall and moved forward. He rounded the training dummy and examined the marks where the dagger had made contact. Some were mere paper cuts into the artificial body. Others were at least enough to do some minor, though very treatable, damage. At least one mark had sunk in enough to be effective, but his aim was off and with their job upcoming there was no room for error. Still, Wayn was making progress. Slow progress. Keras touched the artificial stomach and then pointed. “Try again, aim here.” 

Wayn took a deep breath and came back over. He stood at the mark Keras had assigned him and took the stance once again. He tried to bend his knees more this time. 

Keras shook his head “Not like that, too loose.” 

It was beyond frustrating. Wayn would have been tempted to toss the dagger across the room if it didn’t hold such significance to him. He glared at his instructor. 

Keras crossed his arms again, looking over his former lover. It was strange to think Wayn wasn’t getting it. It wasn’t so different than… A distant memory played into his head. “... you know that thing you do?” he asked, his voice much more casual. 

Wayn paused. Then he raised a brow “The ‘thing’ I do?” 

Keras held his stare “Yeah, that ‘thing’ you do” there was the slightest hesitation “...in bed…” 

There was a sudden flash of realization, then amusement and coming back to who he was speaking with. He sobered. Wayn nodded, trying not to be cocky “Yeah.” 

Keras furrowed his brow. He took a few steps and got behind Wayn. His voice was low and toned as he spoke into hisear “Firm, but loose. Solid, but able to roll with the punches. Bendable, but not breakable.” he instructed. 

Wayn tore his state from Keras and looked back at the dummy. He focused for a moment, just staring at it. His body dropped into the stance, his positioning had already been good, but now his form matched what Keras had shown him originally. Wayn took a breath. In one fluid motion he struck out against his enemy. He landed his mark, exactly where he was supposed to and the blade delved deeply into the ballistic flesh. The jewels still shined through the translucent material. If the dummy had been human, he would have at least struck the intestines. 

Keras scoffed “Leave it to you.” he moved over and examined the puncture. “I swear sometimes the only language you understand is sex E’wenu.” 

Wayn couldn’t help but laugh. He pulled the dagger from the dummy and inspected it to make sure it had suffered no damage. A hand running over the jewels to clear them of debris. He lost his smile as his brain registered the word. “You never did tell me what that meant… your litte nickname for me.” 

Keras grined slightly. “You don’t expect me to tell you ‘all’ my secrets do you?” 

“My coin” Wayn said, expressing he already knew. 

Keras’ lost what little smile he had. He looked away and walked towards the entrance of the holodeck. The control panel not very far. “I’m surprised one of your little Romulan friends on the ship told you that. You’d think they’d keep our language a little closer to the vest.” 

Wayn knew him well enough to sense he wasn’t sincere. “I doubt either would consider me a friend now.” He was lost for a moment at the memory of Sindari and Verelan. The scientist at least had always kept the man an arms length away but the nurse… Wayn’s heart sank at the thought of her. It had taken him a lot of time and effort to befriend the woman and within seconds he had undone everything. Wayn forced their images back behind the coin in his mind.

“I’d say not, if they’re even half Romulan you’ll be dead the second you step foot on board again.” 

“Comforting” Wayn shot back. And to his surprise Keras was giving him a half grin again. 

“Good thing I’ve decided to come with you when this is over… you’ve had my back… the least I can do is have yours.” He’s quiet for a moment as he stares at the holodeck controls “you deserve some peace when this is done E’we- Wayn…” 

The Betazoid considered the other thoughtfully. He didn’t attempt to read him out of respect. “You’re not…” he tried to think of how to phrase it. Eventually he chuckled “you want to help me get back to my Imzadi?” 

Keras titled his head and gave him a serious stare with raised brow “We’re about to take down the syndicate. We’ve both spent the better part of a decade working towards this. I have my people to think about and you have your sister to avenge.” he was quiet for another moment. He allowed the truth of the sentence to come along with his words “I lost an entire planet… crying over a lost lover isn’t high on my list of priorities.” 

The man had probably expected a laugh. But Wayn held his gaze, and projected a feeling of respect towards the other. As always this seemed to affect Keras. His shoulders lowered and the visible tension in his jaw was lost. 

The Romulan felt seen in a way that always made him uncomfortable. The damned Betazoid had almost always understood him. His tone was firm as he spoke “As long as you’re still my ally Wayn… that’s all I ever needed from you. And I don’t even ‘need’ that…” 

Wayn nodded in understanding as Keras finished imputing the codes. With the holodeck controls set the figure of a dummy was replaced by an actual enemy. The holoimage portrayed a Naussican, nearly seven feet tall and holding her own weapon. The betazoid looked over the creature, void of feeling or emotion, he could hurt it without guilt. There was an unspoken knowledge between both men. That in a real setting, against a living person Wayn would most likely falter in his attack. That he’d allow his empathy to keep him from doing what needed to be done. The idea of training him now gave them a chance. If his muscle memory and instinct’s took hold then maybe, just maybe, he could get the job done. 

They trained.

\---

That night, exhausted and worn, Wayn flopped into his bed. Having cleaned and sheathed the dagger he held it in his hand beneath the pillow. The soft bedding made him relax despite his adrenaline still working against him. He wondered if he could visit Jaale again in his dreams, if they could share another moment in some space that wasn’t quite their own but a beautiful mix of them both. He had no idea of the Vulcan meditations the man he loved was doing back aboard the ship. The ones that would suppress the emotional tie between them. What had happened before was a fluke, rare enough amongst his species, but with Jaale working on emotional control it was even less likely to happen again. 

Wayn turned over in his bed and played with the locket around his neck. Just like last night, the night before, and every night since he’d come to this ship, Wayn opened it. He listened as Jaale’s voice reciting the poem filled the room. He fell asleep, thinking only of his Imzadi and left behind the burden of what was to come.


	4. The Fray

Once every three years the five leaders of the syndicate would meet. In some undisclosed location with a hoard of protection in the shape of hired goons and loyal relatives. The only way to maintain the balance of power amongst them was to exchange latinum and, more importantly, information. Wether it was names of new recruits, deals that had been struck or locations of secret bunkers the five would pass their ‘treasures’ along, sharing the wealth only with one another. It was essential if they were to maintain their grip on Orion. 

Too well organized and with too many operatives strategically placed the government held little power that wasn’t controlled by the syndicate. Any officials not willing to make deals or give passes to the pirates were quickly stuck down. Never to be heard from again. 

Which was why the only way, the only true way, to bring down the corruption on Orion was to dispatch the syndicate leaders and give away their secrets. It was what Wayn and Keras had been working towards since the first day they met. The Betazoid hacker and the ruthless Romulan having made deals and essentially sold their souls for just a slime window of an opportunity. They weren’t going to waste it... 

Wayn stood at the transporter controls while Keras and several surly looking fighters waited. Each held weapons of phaser, phasers rifles, knives, and any other concealed protection they’d decided to wield. There was a tension in the air that the Betazoid was aware of, yet everyone was well prepared and eager to fight. The assembled group each having some skin in the game that made them willing to die but none had any intentions to do so. 

Wayn’s hands pressed the controls as he worked his way through the system. Carefully he made no errors to alert the syndicate as he reprogrammed the transporter beam sequence and worked around the blockers. It really wasn’t too hard, or at least not for him. The light from the pad caught the silver ring around his finger, the claddagh shinning and catching his attention as he worked. What would Will think of him? What would any of his friend’s from the Bartholomew think of him? 

Wayn couldn’t let his mind focus on that right now. He forced the image of his friends behind the coin in his mind. The sensation of all the people he’d loved the on the Bartholomew living somewhere beyond the cold metal image. His fingers finished typing in the sequence and Wayn stepped away... everything was ready. 

Wayn strode over to the transporter pad, heart thumping in his ears. He stood next to Keras and placed his hand on the Orion dagger by his side. Not only was he taking the spirit of Jaale into the fray with him but also the woman who’d bestowed the dagger on her son. The one who had fought the syndicate all of her life for the freedom of her people. Wayn gripped the hilt and somewhere inside he felt the presence of Jaale’s mother gleam through the jewels and offer him strength. 

Keras glanced at Wayn before giving the signal and the team dematerilizaed from the pad. 

-

Instant chaos! 

No sooner had they beamed then phaser fire was exchanged. The screams of the leaders and barking of orders did nothing to interfere with the team’s work. Wayn kept his telepathy opened and passed commands from Keras to the others. The Romulan working quickly to dispatch goons in his path. 

One of the syndicates minions cornered Wayn, blocking his path as he raised his weapons There was a spray of purple blood that shot across Wayn’s chest as one of his own men’s struck his assailant down. Then another came from nowhere Wayn could only watch as they brawled until the yowl of an agonizing death rang out from one. Wayn dove and kept close to the floor as he focused on the computer station across the room. His end goal in sight beyond the terrible scene. 

‘I need help’ a voice called in his mind and Wayn transferred the request to the nearest ally. It was too late. The channel of communication was instantly broken, a cold absence now resides where the telepathic connection had once stood. The one who’d called for backup was dead and Wayn had to keep moving. He ignored the sensation of death around him as he stood and began to run across the room. He jumped tables and avoided friendly fire. 

‘Reposition’ Keras called into the betazoid’s mind. ‘Fall back into Strata formation!’ And Wayn issued the command to the others. 

The orders not being heard by the syndicate made them confused for the sudden and organized movement. It threw them off balance and the team was able to strike, harder, faster and with more force. Behind a pillar Wayn watched as Keras jumped easily across a overturned chair and descended on one of the leaders with an assassin’s Grace. His body moved in slow motion, unencumbered by his tight clothing. His face was impassive, his eyes focused and fiery. The blade of his knives hit before he collided with the villain. An instant sputtering of blood exited the Orion’s mouth and he twitched for just a moment against the concrete floor. One down, four to go. 

Wayn took a breath to steady himself before dashing out. He rushed across the room and avoided two fighters. Rolling and ducking he kept his objective clear. In the back of his mind, connected to his senses he felt the weight of the humanoids around him; fear, bravado, rage, loyalty, or even just perverse pleasure to the onslaught occurring. Wayn had to keep the lines open, keep himself aware despite the brutality and anguish that came with it. 

Somewhere in the distance he felt the snap of the neck. ‘Two down three to go.’ He told Keras. Then almost instantly he knew the searing of phaser against chest and the light that extinguished from another leader’s body. ‘Three down, two left.’ 

The Betazoid reached the computer and instantly set to work as the fighting continued behind him. Even if they failed to kill them all it was imperative to collect the data. It meant more than their lives as without it the syndicate couldn’t function and with it even without guidance there was still the chance the mob would prevail. The hacker counted his blessings they had already begun a transfer of information and set to work breaking through the encryptions. That was until the fist collided with his back. 

Wayn was knocked down and sprawled on the floor. He looked up at a Nausicann, snapping beak like face and burning yellow eyes. He raised his arms high in the air and dropped them with the full weight of his body. Wayn rolled to narrowly escape the impact. The concentration where he’d just lay dented from the force. The Betazoid used the skills he’d been taught by the Romulan and kicked the legs out from beneath the beast. He hit the ground and came up more angry than before. Wayn readied himself for the fight of his life. It was unnecessary. As soon as the enemy stood a shot hit his head and he dropped to the floor in a heap. Wayn watched him go down and some part of him was sorry for the death. 

Wayn pushed it off and focused. Behind him the team and the syndicate carried on. One more leader was dead and the battle was nearly done. Then, one of their team was struck down and the connection to them was lost. Then another and another. Keras called for a reposition and again they confused their enemy. The team struck back in a skilled display and several of the guards were dispatched in the controlled movement. 

Sweat beaded the betazoids head as he ran the numbers and thought through the codes. The system was slower than he wanted though that might have been because his mind was racing. The synapses of his brain shooting quickly to think of what needed to be done five steps before the commands could even be executed. 

There! 

The date began to stream across the screen in a brilliant display. The little rod positioned for downloading began to collect the information. One second passed, then two, then three, all while Wayn felt the beating in his chest as his heart went to warp speed. 

‘Look out!’ The voice called and Wayn’s dropped to the floor just as pipe was brandished above his head. 

Wayn ducked and dodged the blows of his assailant, the Orion half dancing as they struck out against him. The woman screamed as she attacked Wayn and it was all he could do to keep his footing. Back and forth they wound around the room, her with the long weapon and him with raised arms to protect against the blows. 

Keras, across the room was struggling now with three fighters. His fists were quick and well timed but couldn’t defend as while also attacking. He was grabbed from behind, his arms pinned by one goon and the other two began their assault. The short lived moment of restraint did damage but he gave it back ten fold after tossing off the one who’d grabbed him. 

Wayn found an opening in the fight and grabbed the pipe that swung at his chest. He struggled back and pulled the Orion about. Eventually she stood plying around and charged to push him up against the wall. The metal bar pinning him into place. “E’wenu!” He heard the scream aloud and turned to the strained voice. ‘He has it!’ The words followed. 

Wayn looked to the computer station where the rod of data had finished downloading. The last of the living syndicate leaders was pulling it from its place. The goosebumps rose on the Betazoid’s skin. His eyes wide and fearful. He couldn’t let him get away. 

Keras was too far, the rest of the team too invested in their fight. Without thinking Wayn brought down his face with all his might and head butted the Orion woman before him. It was enough to make her lose her balance and her grip. He pushed her back, ignoring the knife she slashed at his side and started running towards the syndicate leader. His heart pounded and his senses lapsed into numbness as his empathy shut down. 

Wayn got to the exit, to the transporter pads before the man and stood in his way. The leader didn’t slow. He rammed into Wayn and the two fell. The data rod in his fist didn’t make his punch any weaker. Wayn was pinned to the ground by the body on top of him. His cheek bruised with the first hit, his eye lost vision with the second. By the third it was all he could do to stay conscious, his body growing limp to the pain. 

Wayn’s hand dropped to his side amidst the assault and for a breif second he felt the metal by his side, fingers brushing the encrusted jewels of the dagger. 

Wayn was gone from the fight. There was no chaos as he sat on the sofa in the sparse captain’s quarters. The little locket had just been presented to him and Jaale’s voice reigned with the poem he’d recorded. His smile was inviting, and the love he felt was always open and clear upon the surface of his being. Wayn leaned in for a kiss, to brush the beautiful Orion man’s lips with his own. 

What he felt was another punch as the word Imzadi flashed through his mind. But while the vision of Jaale was lost, his presence was still felt. Wayn’s hand wrapped around the dagger. He pulled it from the sheath. The metal gleamed with all his beauty in the light that steamed subtly through the windows. Wayn’s hand turned, what appeared to happen slowly taking place in a fraction of a second. As the fist moved to make contact with his face again Wayn sank the dagger deep inside the man above him. 

The blow still came across his cheek, but the fist opened in the last moment and pushed down against the betazoid’s neck. Wayn stared at the eyes looking down at him filled with shock. He twisted the blade and pulled up with strong arms, instantly gutting the man before him. 

The last of the syndicate leaders fell limp to the floor and lay motionless beside the beaten betazoid. The last of the leaders was dead before he even hit the ground, Wayn having sensed the life leaving him. It was something that would stick with him for the rest of his life. 

Keras came running up just as the silence began to fall. The last shot was fired to end the battle, none of the syndicate having made it out and eight of the strike team still standing. The Romulan helped Wayn to his feet, bloody and bruised himself, before taking the data rod from his enemies lifeless hand. And a slow dawning settled over them both... 

they had won. 

—-

Wayn moved to the computer and started bypassing the systems. He found the connection he was after and laid in the codes. It’s a few moments of ringing before the monitor is answered. Then a very worn face that looks much like Wayn’s with greying hair and aged expression from years of the service, stares back at the other Betazoid.

For a moment he doesn’t recognized the image, the bloody lip and bruised cheeks but the familiarity is hard to miss evenbeneath the blood. “Nawayn...” for a moment there is concern but it’s quickly turns to anger as his jaw sets firmly. “I know what you did. I know what you stole from the Bartholomew. Do you even realize how many countless lives you put in danger!? If you think-“ 

“The Orion syndicate is dead.” He tones and there is silence once more from the other side. “I’m sending you a file, unencrypted. You’ll find everything. All their transactions, their cashes, allies, weapons dealers... every part of the slave trade.” 

The face stares blankly at him, eyes wide with astonishment. The hacker begins the transfer and despite the large size of the file and the shaky connection the information is sent seamlessly. The older man taps the computer and soon finds the needed data to take down the whole of the syndicate. 

“I...” Wayn tried to find the words, gulping back the tension in his throat. Keras stands to the side, tending a wound just out of range from the monitor but he sends the image of himself gripping Wayn’s shoulder and offering him support. In reality he leans back and crosses his arms while he waits for the call to end. “I know we haven’t always agreed on how to get things done. But I hope you can see why I chose this way. I hope in time you might even be able to understand...” 

The figure across the channel is silent for a long moment. Then the tears pool at the edges of his eyes. “All this time, I just thought...” they threaten to pour down his cheeks but hold steady before the black iris. 

Wayn does something he hasn’t in a very long time. Not since before his sister was taken. Not since before he blamed his father for her death and the tension between their family. Wayn reaches forward and touched the monitor with two fingers, a Betazoid gesture “I love you Dad.” He says softly. 

Then after a moment “Get Starfleet to Orion, they’re going to need help when the government collapses.” And with that Wayn ends the transmission. It isn’t until Keras crosses over and stands beside him that Wayn is aware of his own unshed tears. He reaches up and brushes them aside. 

“So” the Romulan holds out the data rod from the download, the yellow shinning as he turns it in his hand. “You ready to find out what happened to her?” 

...


End file.
